Reset: One Kilo and Counting
by KiloKillua
Summary: "It's been a while since I flipped my switch on." - Killua, Ep. 82. Twelve years of training from the day of your birth are never erased, only hidden. Fool. You think you're in control, but when the Zoldycks raised you to be the epitome of perfection in your trade... your will was never your own. It never will be. You are bred to kill, destined to rule. Now reset, Killua, and rise.
1. Switch

"It's been a while since I flipped my **switch** ..."

"Stuck in that house all day, I spent all my time learning how to **kill**. You're my first friend, Gon."

"Sorry, but I'm **not** a **normal** person."

"I spent all my time training as an **assassin**. And after I quit, I've been with you, and..." I really don't want that to change.

"If you so much as touch them, I'll **kill** you."

"People only find me interesting because they can't ever tell whether I'm **serious** or not..."

"I am an **assassin**. I've **killed** more people than these guys. Each player in this game risks their life in one way or another. That doesn't make it okay to **kill** others. But all the people I've **killed** were not nearly as prepared to **die**. I'm **worse** than these guys."

"Not **killing** people is really hard. Clean living is **tough**."

"The letters I've written before are all **blackmail** to people. I'm not sure if I know how to write a **real** letter."

"If you want, I can **kill** him for you. You've never **killed** anybody, have you? You're **scared**?"

"If an **assassin** is hired to **kill** someone, there's a good chance that person did something to **deserve** it."

"Who wants to have their **life** planned out **for** them?"

"I'm going to pick my **own** future."

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" **Assassination** — It's the **family trade**. We all take it up. My folks see me as an

 **exceptional prospect** . But I don't see that I have to live up to their **expectations** ."

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 **\- "You have made a fatal error. Game Over. Play Again?" -**

Gon's voice was giddy when he leapt to his feet and exclaimed, "I win! Sucks to suck!"

Killua, on the other hand, was not doing so hot.

He continued to feel that nudging at the base of his skull that'd been bothering him for a few hours now, and suddenly he begin to panic as his body and will engaged in battle. His head thunked audibly against the hard wood of the coffee table, the controller slipping from his grasp to drop quietly onto the carpet. Killua tried to inhale, but instantaneously he came to the realization that He. Couldn't. Breathe.

... Oh crap.

"Huh. Overdramatic much?" he heard Gon's voice utter, but the teasing tone sounded as if it was filtering through water into his ears. "Just quit askin' for rematches an' you'll stop gettin' your rear end handed to ya."

Killua's lips trembled, shoulders starting to shake as his ribcage creaked in an effort to draw in oxygen. Oh God. Oh God, oh God, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe.

What's going on? Why now? This doesn't... this doesn't make any sense!

His vision was already starting to go hazy, and he knew he only had a few more seconds to do anything before he completely lost control. His jaw clenched on its own in an effort to maintain his composure, and he managed to twitch the fingers in his left hand a few centimeters out to tap lightly on the table.

Eyes. Gotta keep my eyes shut. Darkness is solace, darkness is solace, darkness is solace.

Killua needed Gon to get away from him.

There was no air to hiss, "Run! Take a hike if you wanna live!" so instead he tapped the wood, slowly, methodically, trying not to elevate his heart-rate any further. One. Two. Three. A slow slide to the left. A fist.

"Run."

It wasn't Morse code – some people weren't so good at numbers and remembering dots versus dashes – but it was in the same wheelhouse. A silent code, just for the two of them, for some reason as intuitive and comprehensive as telepathy. Years of traveling with someone really set you on the same wavelength – almost literally in their case.

But Gon hadn't responded yet, so he likely wasn't paying attention. Tch, typical. Gloating, basking in his glory, doing his stupid happy dance. Air-headed, broccoli-brained, over-trusting son-of-a—

"You okay? Killua?"

Thank God.

Killua was on the brink at this point, since even he could only go without air for so long in good conditions – and the prodding and trembling in the recesses of his brain were far from "good conditions" – and as he repeated the signal for retreat, his hand became so weak it could only form a half-fist. Still, the doofus got the message. And for a second, Killua was relieved.

Until he heard Gon's stupid, idiotically-cheerful voice reply with only mild alarm, "Run from what? C'mon, if there's a threat you need to run too!"

Crud, I should have seen this coming.

Gon didn't run. He never did anything Killua told him to when they faced huge threats on a regular basis, so why the heck would he listen now? The-the imbecile, the-that-h-h-he grabs my shoulder, trying to haul me to my feet.

The physical contact did Killua in. No, nononono, no, no, please no!

He involuntarily groaned as his resolve crumpled, his vision pitched into the next dimension, and his ears went deaf. Killua's lips whispered one final word as oxygen and bloodlust flooded into his body and he simultaneously lost awareness.

"... Baka."

Don't you get it?

 _I am the threat._

 **\- Infallible Logic. -**

Gon stared in confusion as Killua's head slowly rose, his eyes opening slowly to reveal dark, blank indigo irises and pinpoint-pupils, the bangs of his hair casting a dark, emotionless shadow across his face. An expression of cold, murderous intensity. What... the...

He'd seen this look on his best friend's face before.

It was Killua's "Assassin Mode." Ordinarily Gon would be put on guard to brace for a hail of attacks from enemy forces, but this time Killua's cold gaze was directed... at him. A cold chill ran down his back, and adrenaline spiked his system as time slowed to a crawl.

He told me to run. H-he... He gave the signal, telling me to run from a threat. But that's dumb, Killua wouldn't—

Gon couldn't even finish forming the thought before he felt a stab in his torso. So fast, so deep, so instantaneous, so unexpected that he didn't even see the silver-haired boy twitch. B-but Killua wouldn't... he wouldn't k—

Gon's mouth parted in an exhaled gasp, droplets of blood splattering out onto the carpeted floor and granting his tongue the unsavory metallic taste that he'd become all too familiar with these days.

Heh. Look at that. Six little droplets of Gon-blood, staining Mito-san's white carpet. Man, she won't be happy when she gets home from grocery shopping. Speaking of, I hope she picks up more of those little cakes, the ones with the maple syrup icing—

Gah... Focus! Focus, Gon! No time for daydreaming!

Gon's gaze wandered down to his own chest. Seemed like as good a place to look as any other, considering it's where the stabbing feeling was coming from. Well, you'd never guess this – the knife puncturing Gon's lung at the moment was Killua's hand! This was his sharp knife-fingernail thing that he promised he'd teach Gon how to do someday (but Gon had always figured he probably never would, since Killua always liked to protect his "tricks of trade").

But that was so funny. What was a knife-finger of Killua's doing digging into Gon's chest? It was pretty uncomfortable, to be honest. It made him taste blood after all. He thought he should tell Killua to remove it.

(Deep down, Gon knew his brain was moving agonizingly slow – slower than usual – but he just didn't understand. Killua must have had a good reason, he was too loyal to do anything like this without his usual infallible logic and rationale. )

"Why?" Gon asked calmly, his voice sounding somewhat muffled. You know, from all the blood that was filling his lungs.

"Why?" he asked a second time when he got no response.

Oh.

Whoops.

I think I said something wrong.

He's attacking again and now he's—

 **\- RESET. -**

Killua came to about five minutes later, snapping back to the real world the way you jerk awake from a nightmare. He winced a little as the intense afternoon sun filtered into the room. Unfamiliar surroundings. Hm... he wasn't at home, and he wasn't in a hotel. Interesting, but not exactly new, considering his lifestyle.

Feeling some stiffness in his neck and back, Killua rolled his shoulders and stretched, doing a swift scan. It'd been a while since he'd flipped his switch, and his mind whirred faster than his eyes could take in his surroundings.

Must be on an assignment. Can't remember what, though. What was my target again? The tech CEO? Nah, bagged him a while ago. Prime Minister of the Lansign Republic? Eh, nope. Wouldn't be dressed like this. Eh. I'll just check the database as soon as I—

Killua's foot hit against something on the floor, and he idly glanced downwards. An Xbox controller. Sweet. Must be cool games on here.

(Deep down, he knew he was missing something. Probably on purpose, come to think of it. Killua felt those cold, mental walls concealing something. But just like Illumi always said – the mind had many facets, and you could train those facets to do virtually anything. Hence, defense mechanisms, poker faces, daydreams, and in the case of the Zoldycks, auto-pilot assassination modes. Killua figured he was still lodged firmly on that last setting, which was always in his best interest, after all.)

About ten minutes into Modern Warfare, he heard the opening of door down the stairs from where he sat, and a woman's voice called out, "Boys! I'm back! Come help with the groceries."

Boys?

But Killua was alone – he knew that the second he regained awareness. There wasn't a single other living being in this entire building, except for her, now. Potential witness?

When in doubt, wipe them out. Another Illumi mantra.

Thirteen seconds later, Killua was rinsing blood off of his hands into a sink in the kitchen of this strange home. Body has been disposed of, and evidence had been eliminated.

He still felt like he was missing something, and now he wondered if it was a red flag. Was this all a trap? Was he in a kill box? Was he surrounded? Was this place rigged to blow any second? Killua coudn't be sure.

... He needed to leave. He snagged all the groceries and stuffed his backpack and pockets, filled up some water bottles, swiped a few tools and a flashlight, and in another eighteen seconds Killua was out the door and sprinting down the road.

The average radius for a common house bomb is... Ah, that's right. Another mile just to be safe.

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Life was routine. Routine was his forte. His forte was killing. Killing was his only objective. He was infamous. Unstoppable Force, Son of Silva, Third in the Lost Legacy and Future Heir to the Family Name.

Killua Tome Raremasen Zoldyck.

And right now, he was moving onwards towards a goal - the first one he'd had in such a long time. One Kilo of Kills: a thousand successful assassinations. And when he finished, Killua would receive the final blessing of his bloodline, ascend to rule the dynasty, and expand the Zoldycks' influence across the nations.

He had been prophesied to do nothing less.

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 **Since his birth, young Killua Zoldyck has been destined to rule the earth.**

 **\- Now, he had been reset. And so it began. -**

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Meanwhile, in a secluded forest twenty miles in the opposite direction, Gon Freecs awakened with a painful gasp, clutching desperately to the trunk of a tree.

"... K-Killua."


	2. Nature-Nurture

**\- Born and Bred for the Best. -**

It was safe to say that the Zoldycks definitely knew what they were doing.

There is a debate within the modern school of thought about whether your identity stems more from your "nature" – your genes and physiological makeup – or how you are "nurtured" – a product of your environment. Most scholars agree that there is some amount of balance of both aspects of your origins.

Additionally, the first years of your life are considered "formative years". When you are born, your mind, spirit, and personality are essentially a blank slate, and your experiences as you are raised serve as chisels on the smooth stone of your psyche. Over time, these influences solidify into semi-permanence, dictating your thought processes, opinions, values, tendencies, habits, and instincts.

Your childhood forms the foundation for who you will grow to become.

For Silva and Kikyo Zoldyck, this concept of the formative years, of nature and nurture, formed the core of their parenting approach. It was nothing new for Zoldyck patriarchs and matriarchs to train their children in their ancestral legacy, in the art of assassination. This tradition stretched back many generations and was so integrated in the family's philosophy that ignoring it was never even a consideration.

Rather, Silva and Kikyo were particularly ambitious. They had lofty goals for the future of the family trade, they knew that their genes happened to be compatible and vigorous, and they were the best in the world in their respective specialities – Silva in strength, speed, and power, and Kikyo in physical and mental stamina and durability. It was no question that their offspring were to be among the finest generation in the Zoldyck's long history.

Opportunities like this could not be wasted.

They began to train their first child, Illumi, at a very young age, as was customary. By the time a Zoldyck can walk, they have already mastered the Nine Tenants of the Senses. By the time they are three, their physical training has already made them capable of eliminating any average combatant. By age four, they will have already successfully completed their first assignment. It is this initial assassination that is considered a rite of passage – and their chosen methodology and style dictates what type of assassin they will become as they grow older and stronger. It is upon this achievement that they are granted a unique, secret middle name – one that is never spoken aloud by any family member in order to preserve the sacred power.

It is said that a Zoldyck who utters their own full name gains a blessing that amplifies their power one-hundred-fold.

Illumi,who utilized his natural talent at deception and his dexterity with needles to impersonate a target's beloved child and puncture their temple, was given the middle name of Piasu Kage – Pierced Shadow.

While their first child showed incredible potential, Kikyo and Silva knew that another was bound to be born – the future, pride and promise of the Zoldyck name. Family lore stated that this generation would give a white-haired king, third in the legacy marked by his father and grandfather, possessor of abilities that outstood the rest of his family – including his ancestors. It had been declared centuries back that this king would dominate the nations.

It was only a matter of time for this special child to arrive, and after their second child Milluki (Tensai – Genius), they had their answer.

The Heir was born on the stroke of midnight – coincidence or fate, who can tell? – with a shock of tell-tale silver hair marking him as a future Transmuter, and instantly-aware blue eyes. From the moment he arrived in the world, the newborn did not cry, but took in his surroundings with a silent concentration inconceivable for a minutes-old infant. His hands, rather than curled into the ordinary fists of any baby, were relaxed, stretching and pointing – already positioned to deal a killing blow.

From the moment their child proved to be exceptional, Silva and Kikyo met each other's gaze with a grin of mutual understanding. This was the one.

They named him accordingly – Killua – and unlike most Zoldyck children, his training began instantaneously. Not one hour after his birth, the pale newborn was brought outside and placed on the ground. A second passed, and a white rattlesnake bred for this purpose slithered forward. Killua had miraculously already rolled to his stomach, his head bearing unnatural strength as he met the snake's eyes. His hands splayed to balance himself as he engaged the approaching reptile in a staring contest.

The snake lashed out.

Venemous fangs sank into his shoulder, and the baby flinched at the pain, but did not cry out. Poison filled his veins, and he began to feel the effects as his newly-developed system was flooded with the killing poison.

But nature kicked in – his mother's genes already granting him with basic immunity to simple venom – and as he would continue to do for years in the future, Killua Zoldyck survived the first test.

From the day of his birth onwards, Killua received the highest level of training in Zoldyck tradition, reserved only for the heirs. Even so, his childhood was consistently oriented for one sole purpose: to reach perfection as an assassin.

Each of his family members contributed to his development from day one - his mother creating an unbreakable pain tolerance and iron fortitude, his father instructing him in combat, his brother Milluki instilling the values of an analytical mind, and his brother Illumi training him in each of the Zoldyck techniques.

(It was also in these early years that Illumi drilled into Killua an overall instinct of self-preservation, reinforced by the careful placement of a needle in his frontal lobe to restrain him and ensure his survival in the face of supreme threats. The heir could not - would not - be killed. He was too precious and valuable to fall prey to stronger forces.)

To be sure, Killua's nature was the product of a long line of masters in the craft of killing. All Zoldycks are born strong and develop quickly. His environment, however, was on an unprecedented level of focus.

And so, by the age of three, Killua was sent on his first assignment – the earliest any Zoldyck had ever been sent for the rite of passage. His family watched from the shadows as the toddler walked with a smooth grace generally seen in fully grown men, steady in his balance and methodical in his approach.

He unleashed chaos on his target and the target's entire household.

Dripping with the blood of his first kill, the white-haired heir turned to his family, surrounded by the bodies of ten victims, bladed fingertips still at his sides. Expressionless eyes dimmed with the controlling mental state created within the first few months of his life.

His mother gasped with joy, clasping her hands in pleasure, and reached out to stroke the young boy's head. His father crossed his arms and dipped his head in acknowledgment, and Killua relaxed, eyes closing.

He gained his middle name that day – Tome Raremasen. Unstoppable Army.

Early on, the child was a force to be reckoned with. When he turned six, his father sent him to the Heavens Arena with the direction to return only when he reached the 200th floor. Two years later, Killua returned to the mansion stronger than ever, and he quickly surpassed the rest of his siblings as the most gifted weapon in the family - even better than Illumi, though Killua did not realize this.

It was only a matter of time before the twelve-year-old destined king felt compelled to leave the household. His mother and Milluki attempted to halt his departure, yet he left the premises nevertheless under the impression that he wanted to reject his family's training.

However, Silva understood and made no move to stop the promised son. It was inevitable that Killua should leave, for he had completed the entirety of the training the Zoldycks could feasibly offer in the home. The greater world would build combat experience, add breadth to his skills…

And of course, he would need to develop Nen on his own.

Time away from the family would only help him to grow exponentially stronger.

And sure enough, it did.

Zoldyck eyes constantly followed him, however, watching over him from a distance, keeping tabs on his progress. His development inspired awe, surprise, and anticipation. Indeed, he was the strongest being this family had ever seen.

And when the time was right, they forced a reset with the touch of a button.

Time to come home, Killua. Time to attain your fated future. Time to begin.

 **\- Phone Call. -**

"He did **what?!** "

Gon winced and held the phone away from his ear with a sigh. He was still perched up high in this tree, with his hand holding the pressure against the still-bleeding wound in his chest, brow furrowed with confusion, frustration, pain, and fear. "You heard me right, Leorio. Killua… he's not himself."

"Where the **** is he, Gon? Get the **** away from him!"

Tired, Gon glanced out at the sunset on the horizon as he replied, "I don't know where he is. He moved so fast, stabbed me, dragged me out here, and vanished. He could be anywhere by now."

Across the line, he could hear Leorio slam things around while breathing heavily. "My flight leaves in about an hour, I'll meet you in a few days or so. Kurapika too - we need to regroup. Can't believe this… Once a killer, always a ****ing killer."

Gon frowned. "He's not."

"And someone who- what? Gon, you're not defending this freak, are you?"

"Killua is my friend. My very best friend. He's not a killer."

"Baka! A killer is someone who kills. Don't stick up for him - he murders people for money! He's good at it, it's his thing. Heck, he nearly killed you-"

"But he didn't." Gon closed his eyes, crossing his legs and leaning back into the crook of the tree.

"So? You lucked out. What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, Killua did not kill me," he stated calmly, quietly. "You said it yourself, he's good at killing, right? He's a professional-"

"Gon."

"-so if he goes for a kill he doesn't…. he doesn't miss. Not him. I'm still alive, though. That means he wasn't trying to kill me. Deep down, he-"

"Gon."

"Deep down, he's not a-"

"Gon, just… shut up! Okay? Shut up. You're just… I mean… ****" The sound of Leorio punching a wall prefaced his quiet hissing, "So you're saying that the fact he 'almost' killed you is proof that he's not a 'killer'? Are you really trying to sell me that, ya little moron?"

There was silence, as Gon said nothing. Leorio inhaled and groaned. "Figures. Killua could probably amputate both of your arms and legs and you'd still believe he's worth saving. Not surprising."

Gon shrugged to myself. "It's Killua, Leorio."

"... Right." There was a grunt, and then the med student said with a long-suffering sigh, "As always, have it your way. When the three of us meet up, we'll talk game plan for getting the little ****er back. You'd better watch yourself Gon." Leorio's voice was steady and confident as usual, but there was definitely a subtle tremble in his voice as he warned, "You always tend to see the good in people, yet you ignore the obvious. Even if Killua's not a killer at heart - which you'll never convince me of that, for what it's worth - he's still in a state of mind right now that won't discriminate. He's an assassin, and if nothing else, he's falling back on that training. He is ruthless, you can't deny that. He could kill you without a thought, and he wouldn't hesitate. So you shouldn't either. Basically… don't let him kill you. Got it?"

Gon swallowed, feeling a strange sensation weighing on his shoulders, and answered, "O-Okay."

"I'll bring Red-Eyes and meet you at the docks on Whale Island. Until then, don't do anything stupid, alright? That includes trying to track and 'save' Killua."

"Alright."

"You swear, Gon? Swear not to be a hero and get yourself murdered by the kid?"

"I swear, Leorio."

"Good. Take care."

The line clicked, and Gon put away his phone, debating whether to head back to Mito-san or stay up in the tree until the bleeding stopped. He didn't want her to freak out over a wound that ultimately wasn't going to be fatal. Plus - and he didn't tell Leorio this over the phone for obvious reasons - but Killua really did do a number on him. He wasn't one-hundred-percent sure he'd make it home if he tried moving at the moment.

So Gon gave Mito-san a call, leaving a message when she didn't pick up, and curled into a ball in the branches of the tree.

He wasn't really sure what he was supposed to be feeling at the moment, or what he was supposed to think. He know what he had to do, he knew that he needed to save Killua from whatever was driving him to these extremes, but other than that… maybe Gon was just confused.

So he put it out of mind and closed his eyes, succumbing to restorative slumber. When he woke up, he should be recovered enough to return to the house, let Mito-san know what's going on, and think of next steps to find his best friend.

Hang on, Killua. I'm coming for you.

 **\- Raw Innocence. -**

Killua walked away from the bedrooms where three more victims lay dead in their beds. Mother, father, five-year-old daughter. Child's play.

Mentally, he tallied up his progress so far. Let's see… Killua took another lick of the popsicle he swiped from their freezer and hummed thoughtfully, dropping out the window to the street below. Twelve, carry the one... Ah. Eight hundred ninety-seven.

Well, that just left a little over a hundred to go. He was in the home stretch. Another lick of the popsicle.

That nagging feeling in his head prodded him again, and he carefully did a 360 to scan his surroundings once again. No tails. Just as he thought. Paranoia struck again, both a blessing and a curse. Killua shrugged and pulled up the Index on his phone, clicking the screen to check off Lydia, Rachel, and Vernon Tuso before scrolling to the next set of targets. An individual, and then a family of five. Got it. He ate the rest of the popsicle and toss the stick in the trash, pumping his fists when it made it in. Two points.

Okay.

On to the next city.


	3. Schemers

**\- Problem-Solving. -**

"Milluki."

"Yo."

A tall, lanky man entered Milluki's dark room, his expressionless features illuminated by the glow of my monitors and blinking electronic lights. Illumi tossed him a bag of chips and a Mountain Dew while casually sitting down on the couch off to the side.

"Progress report?" Illumi quietly asked, blank dark eyes glancing over at Milluki's screens with the disinterested gaze that proved he understood nothing of the technical jargon scrolling across the monitors.

Milluki smirked. This family's so old-fashioned. A few keystrokes later, he pulled up a GPS map and zeroed in on Kil's location. Another few clicks later and the database, the Index, emerged on-screen. "Since the reboot, he's made eleven hits, plus three insurances." Insurances being side casualties, acts to silence witnesses, acts of thoroughness, acts of boredom, etc. - these didn't count in his Kilo, of course, otherwise he'd have already more than tripled his goal years ago. The Zoldycks only counted official, paid assassinations. "He's keepin' a fast pace, spendin' no more than half a day in each city."

"He is certainly on task then. Good." He heard Illumi stretch and recline on the couch. "Any unusual responses to the reset?"

Milluki idly spun in my chair, shoving a handful of chips in his mouth. "Mmpfh- nah," he replied with his mouth full. "Essentially, we wiped his memory of the past few years, all the way up to a few weeks before he left the house." He swallowed a gulp of soda and grinned with a shrug. "It's like he never left, and he's on good terms with us."

"I see," Illumi replied, his voice nonchalant.

But Milluki knew his brother. Better than most, at least. It could be hard to guess what Illumi was thinking, since he lived life with a poker face. Except when it came to Killua, like now. "What's eatin' you?" Milluki asked, taking another mouthful of chips. His elder brother didn't say anything for a while, examining his fingernails with the tiniest furrow in his brow being the only indicator that his mind was preooccupied.

… I get it. You're worried about the **other** one.

Cracking his knuckles, Milluki frown briefly and spun back to his keyboard, tapping in several rapid keystrokes. Searching… searching… Got him.

Over my shoulder, he called, "You thinkin' about the bouncy boy? He's still on that tiny island. Far from Kil by now."

Illumi sighed and stood to his feet, approaching to lean over Milluki's shoulder as he gently tapped the picture on the screen. "This one, Milluki. 'Gon Freecs.' Do you understand why he's the problem?"

Milluki huffed, taking a long swig of Mountain Dew. "Eh, not really. I mean, Kil outclasses him to begin with. We all do. He's injured. Honestly, he's kinda stupid. And he's way out of the action."

"And he's alive."

"Well, yeah." Milluki cocked his head in thought. "Guess the kid can take a hit. Props for him, I mean, his vital went pretty shaky for a while. But he's basically defenseless. What's the deal?"

"Moron," Illumi muttered under his breath, "the 'deal' is that the runt is still alive. That meant Kil overpowered the wipe long enough to avoid the kill shot." (His finger on the screen turned into a fist that made Milluki bristle. He'd better not punch my monitor.) "Gon is alive for one reason and one reason only: mercy. And that is unacceptable."

Well, you're not wrong, Milluki admitted inwardly. After a beat, he groaned and his head flopped backwards, crunching noisily on chips because he knew how much Illumi hated that. "But in the long run, does it matter? He's not a threat to us or the plan. So we just make sure that if they ever cross paths again, Kil ends him. No hesitation."

Illumi began to growl, making the hair stand up along Milluki's neck. "And if he doesn't? Say Island Boy manipulates him into showing mercy again, escapes, and strikes back? He's the Achilles Heel to Kil's focus - he's a distraction. He's… dangerous. We can't let him anywhere near Kil. That goes for all his so-called 'buddies.' Now, do you understand?"

Milluki gulped. An agitated Illumi was not to be trifled with, as he'd learned over the years. He sat up straight and crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah. Yeah, I get the gist. So… what? We keep tabs on him, intercept him if and when he gets too close?"

"I would ideally seek him out and cross him off right now to save time, if that were a practical option. Unfortunately, it's not. We have other matters upon which to spend our energies. But we need to take a couple of first steps. Until we can dedicate more attention to him, we need to keep him occupied." Illumi's long, spider-like fingers drummed thoughtfully on my desk as he thought for a few moments. "You have his telephone number, right?"

Half a minute later, Gon Freecs's cell phone began to receive a call.

" **K-Killua!** "

 **\- Waiting to Board. -**

Kurapika was a morning person. Leorio, however, was not.

The two of them were seated in the airport terminal as their plane was being fueled and loaded with the passengers' baggage. Kurapika sat up straight as an arrow, eyes scanning the other people wandering the airport in the wee a.m. hours. In contrast, Leorio was sagging his seat, long legs wildly outstretched with abandon, mouth open with drool. And his snore was actually remarkable.

Kurapika smiled fondly at his sleeping friend. As soon as Leorio had hung up with Gon, the aspiring doctor hadn't hesitated to reach give him a call. "Kurapika! The apocalypse is coming!" he'd said, dramatically as per usual. After a minute of frantic yelling and shouting obscenities, Leorio finally managed to share the horrible news. And, while Leorio was completely shocked and horrified by recent events…

Kurapika had somewhat expected this.

Not that he had anything against Killua. He had a lot in common with the he white-haired boy, after all. There was mutual respect. Definitely friendship. And on Kurapika's part, there has always been no small amount of wariness towards the younger boy.

The thing was, Killua was very much like himself. When Kurapika's eyes turned red and his rage fueled his Specialist Nen abilities, he was well-aware of that all-consuming obsession - that desire - to kill. To eliminate. To destroy. And he'd seen something similar in the Zoldyck several times over their travels and adventures. When Killua focused, really focused, tapping into that subconscious state of mind ingrained into him as an assassin by training… he was frankly terrifying.

For a while, Kurapika had worried about Gon's safety around such a potential monster. But time and time again, Killua proved himself in control and very loyal to his best friend. He wasn't a threat at all.

Kurapika frowned and squeezed his fist, absentmindedly watching the slight gleam of the silver chains branching from his fingers as his thoughts tumbled in recursive loops.

Killua would never strike against Gon like this. What's changed? What does this mean?

And the million-dollar question: Can he even be 'saved'?

 **\- Tactics and Trust. -**

The next morning, Gon awoke to the buzzing of his cell phone. Drowsily, he dug it out of his pants pocket, instantly jumping up in excitement and wincing from the pulling on his chest wound.

Killua Zoldyck, according to Caller ID.

Gon mashed the Talk button so hard he nearly broke the phone, starting to sway for a second and desperately grabbing onto a branch to keep himself from plummeting down to the earth below. Still a bit dizzy. Probably from blood loss. And hunger. But that didn't matter right now.

"K-Killua!" he practically screamed into the phone, sending flocks of morning birds scattering from the surrounding area. "Killua, are you okay?!"

"Geez, Gon, don't yell so loudly, I'm right here," the unmistakable voice of his best friend replied. "And I'm fine."

Gon stutter over his words as he barked a deluge of concerned questions, "Where are you? What are you up to? Where should we meet up? What's going on? Do you need-"

"Gon, shut your mouth for about three seconds, okay? Take a deep breath."

He obeyed, closing his eyes and forcing himself to relax on the tree branch. "O-okay."

"I don't have a lot of time to explain, but… something's up. What I… what I did t-to you, I…"

"Don't worry about it, Killua, I'll be okay-"

"That's not what's freaking me out, baka. It's that-" Killua took a deep inhale before continuing. "So I'm ninety-nine percent sure I'm being controlled right now. I think we both know by who."

Gon grit his teeth, glaring down at his boots. "Your family."

"Bingo. They're doing something, I can't figure out what, but whatever it is, it's working. I'm moving and… doing business, and I can't stop myself. You picking up what I'm putting down, Gon?"

He nodded slowly, wide-eyed, before realizing that he needed to respond. "Tell me where you are. Leorio and Kurapika are coming - we can find you. We'll figure it out together."

"That won't work."

Gon spluttered indignantly, sitting forward. "Why not?"

He heard Killua grunt over the line, and then the sound of something slamming in the background followed by a muffled curse. "Because I'll kill you all."

He wasn't exactly sure what to say to that.

"Look... I need to figure this out on my own, and… I don't trust myself to hold back if you all confront me. I'm not sure how my family is doing this, but it's…" Gon heard Killua's voice crack, and his heart started to ache (or maybe that was just the stab wound throbbing). "It's bad. So don't…. Gon, don't give me the opportunity to accidentally do something I might regret. Promise me?"

What is it with everyone wanting me to make promises that are so hard to keep?! Gon's face scrunched up and he angrily swing his fist at the tree a few times, sending bark flying from each punch. This sucks!

Still. Gon might have been stubborn, but he wasn't quite stupid, nor was he heartless. He wouldn't make Killua fight him as long as he could help it. "Promise. We'll figure this out another way."

He hear his best friend in the whole wide world sigh in extreme relief. There was a sniffling sound - but Killua didn't cry. Did he?

This must be really bad. I can tell when you're scared, and this totally counts. "You sure you're okay, Killua? I'm worried about you."

"B-baka, you're embarrassing me. I can handle it. You on the other hand need to take care of yourself. Don't take crazy risks. Don't challenge yourself while you're injured. Don't be reckless when I'm not around to hold you back, 'kay? Be less oblivious than usual, if that's even possible," he half-heartedly joked, and Gon grinned to himself.

"Of course, Killua!"

"Tch. Not sure if I believe you. I'll text you updates when I can. Bye."

"Bye!"

Click.

Already there was a minor weight off Gon's shoulders. Killua's okay. We'll all figure out how to beat this. And a good night's rest helped him heal pretty well, so he jumped down from the tree and started to walk home. After all, he had to tell Mito-san what was going on and let her know he might be away from home for a while.

But when Gon reached the house and opened the door… He instantly knew something was wrong. It's… quiet. It's way too quiet.

"Mito-san," he called out into the house, closing the door behind him. Quickly, he searched all the rooms. Nothing. Nobody. Not a trace. "Mito-san!" Gon yelled, louder. He checked the yard surrounding the house. Nope, she's not doing laundry.

He sat awkwardly at the kitchen table, feeling a strange sensation in his gut. Where is she? She never did answer his voicemail. Gon decided to call her again.

The phone rang, and he waited, munching on a cookie he found abandoned in one of the cupboards - since there was, for some reason, no more food in the house. Odd, since Mito-san went grocery shopping, and…

Gon's mind went blank. His spine shivered. He started to break out into a cold sweat.

Because he could hear Mito-san's phone ringing. Leaping from his chair, Gon sprang to the trash can and dumped the garbage all over the floor, heartbeat racing faster and faster. Found it.

Mito-san's phone. Broken and barely held together by a few wires. It was remarkable it could still receive a signal. More importantly, it was here in the garbage, and not in her purse.

Gon's thoughts spun, and he sank to sit on the ground, stunned. What does this mean? Where is she?

He was not a worst-case-scenario type of guy. That was always more Killua's schtick. So he knew that Mito-san was still alive, of course. He just… didn't know where she could be.

.

.

.

She must have been kidnapped. By… by Killua. And he doesn't know it. But he has her. He must have her.

Gon sent a frantic text message to Killua: do u have mito-san?

There's a pause, and then a reply: yes

He finally breathed again. She was alive. take care of her! send her home!

Killua seemed to pause. i can't do that

why not?

… they won't let me, he typed, followed quickly by an: i'm so sorry gon

Gon took a shuddering breath, head knocking backwards against a kitchen cabinet in frustration. Why is this happening?

Even though this situation appeared to get worse and worse by the second, he still had faith in his best friend. Killua wouldn't let anything bad happen to Mito-san.

i trust u killua.

But they definitely had to figure this out.

 **\- Schemers. -**

Milluki chuckled as he typed the messages to Gon's cell, and Illumi shook his head in exasperation. There was a difference between toying with someone's psyche and just being childish, and Milluki tended to lean towards the latter.

Still, impersonating Kil in that phone call gave Illumi no small sense of pleasure. This Gon kid fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.

Because, of course, the two Zoldyck brothers had faked the call and intercepted all the text messages. Killua wouldn't even remember Gon's name at the moment, let alone his (failed) attempt to kill the green-haired kid. Illumi and Milluki just had to tell Gon what he wanted or needed to hear. And to make things easier, the kid was remarkably gullible.

And, naturally, the boy's mother figure, "Mito-san," was long dead. Killua had scattered the remains and cloaked the scent to hide the evidence. But really, it was better this way. Now they could all avoid the Gon kid going on a revenge trip and taking advantage of Kil's weakness towards him. The fake kidnapping gave the Zoldycks leverage now.

Illumi felt his mouth curl into a smile. Once again, calculated movements in advance would reap great rewards. His little brother was safe for the time being. After a celebratory fistbump with Milluki, he left the room.

Time to find Kalluto for the next phase.


End file.
